Currently listening to: “9 to 5” – Dolly Parton
Today, at work, a gentleman came up to me and requested the following book:
Less relevant, at least for my purposes, is the content of the book. Suffice to say, Jared Diamond is a freaking genius, and if you are the least bit interested in anthropology and development of society, you ought to read this book. But I digress – every time I see this book, it sparks off a series of memories (and I have to suppress the urge to rave about it). Memory-wise, I can remember exactly when, where, and under what circumstances I was reading the book for the first time. McDonalds, in Singapore. I was fourteen. Sitting by the door, I was reading the book in its original hardcover, taken out from the school library. Six-ish, after a Tribune meeting (thus, it was a Tuesday), in typical Mary style, reading in an eating establishment while having a Diet Coke and ice cream at the same time. This train of memories brings back images of the school library of the secondary school I attended there, wood-paneling and couches and all. Why should I have remembered any of this in such detail? None of it is particularly significant at all; I must’ve read any number of books at McDo’s, doing the exact same thing, and I can’t remember any of them. Except maybe Les Miserables, but I’ve read that book everywhere and anywhere, so that doesn’t quite count.
And while we’re on the subject of books, here’s a funky recommendation:
That book definitely distracted me way too much from Provincial exam studying in Grade 12. Definitely was trying to distract others equally by reading out the whole existentialist children’s storybook to my assorted bemused friends. It’s quite the brilliant reflection on death and the (presumable) afterlife tucked into the guise of a children’s picture book, with gorgeous black and white illustrations, and text-messaging animal protagonists. Need I say more? God, I love children’s books with profound truths in its simplicity.
Rawr.
Tags: books2 Comments
2 responses so far ↓
Ahem!
I was not bemused, I was enthralled. Little children should be thinking about their own mortality before they can even understand what that means. It’s good for them. And Jellybeans was WAY better than studying.
What does that book have to do with books?
w00t for children’s books :P
BTW: Do you work at the library? Or?
Have you read Nabakov’s Pale Fire? (E-mail me if you reply, please; I don’t get notification when people reply to comments… XD)